Heavy Lies the Crown
by Anjelle
Summary: Four kingdoms are stuck in a perpetual war. If they make their move, the joker will make his, and so they've been stuck like this for centuries. Sabo decides he's had enough, that he'll end it, even if the other three kings become casualties to bring about that end. But when he kills the first, Ace, he doesn't expect to be stuck with him until his goal is met-if his sanity lasts.
1. Prologue

**So this here is just a short prologue for this new story, which should be really fun later on. I can't fit this scene into the first chapter so I decided to put it here as the prologue. I'll explain further when I post the first chapter (after I finish the Divide and Immortality updates) so for now all you need to know is that the world is based on a deck of cards and the 4 suits/factions/kingdoms are at war. But... more on that when the story ACTUALLY begins.**

* * *

The first to go was his top hat. White gloves stood stark against the charcoal dye of the hat and he stared long and hard. He really liked that hat, so it was a pity when he placed it on the rack and stepped further inside, resigning to the fact that he couldn't bring it along.

Royal purple walls were there to great him, every colour brilliantly vibrant, every surface polished until it shined. Gold trim accented everything within, giving the room just a little brighter an appearance, and he smiled as he headed over to the bed.

First to go was his suit jacket. It unbuttoned easily enough, sliding off his shoulders and away from his form to reveal a black dress shirt. It hit the plush surface of the mattress with a soft noise and he took a moment to eye the rich fabrics now so carelessly tossed aside, the blues and yellows somewhat dimmed by the lightly-coloured sheets now surrounding them. He sighed.

As he undid the white cravat around his neck he sauntered over to the full-length mirror against the wall, dull eyes boring into his own reflection as the white cloth was dropped and left forgotten on the floor by his feet. He leaned to the side and reached for a simple grey tie, sliding it around his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. But before he tied it, the black collar was pulled away to reveal an equally dark diamond tattoo on the side of his neck. He watched as its shape morphed and stretched until what remained was the neat, carefully constructed shape of a spade—simple, yet believable.

The blond pulled on a plain grey vest, straightening it onto his form before doing up the buttons on the front and looking himself over with analyzing eyes. It looked alright... basic, plain, easy to miss. What else, though…

Ah, right. The gloves. But he didn't have black gloves. What a bother…

Taking a deep, calm breath, he eyed the material over his hands, never blinking as he focused. Black splotches of ink burst onto the clean, pure silk of his glove, spreading out across the surface and connecting until none of the original shade was left. He smiled again, letting out a satisfied hum as he glanced back into the mirror's surface—at his face. What to do about that…

Green eyes became blue as he started to shift. He could feel the bones in his face changing, reconstructing as his pallid-white skin tanned and blond strands darkened into a near-black brown.

The change settled and the strange, tingly feeling of his body being altered dissipated, leaving him to look over the results of his efforts with interest and amusement. It was quite convincing, the way his facial structure became so very different from what it really looked like. But one last…

Placing a hand over his chest, he concentrated. When he pulled away he found a crest embroidered across the front, and his mouth stretched into a grin.

His deception complete, the game could finally commence.

* * *

**Adieu~**


	2. Act I: Those Who Rule

**Update is here, lovelies! A lot sooner than expected, too. So this is the actual first chapter, and you should be able to tell after reading it why I put that one scene as a prologue. Anyways, I'll briefly explain a few things... This stemmed from a drawing mah-blackberreh was working on, and she and I expanded on it and eventually I kinda rambled out half a plot and she encouraged it... *glares at her* But yeah, so I started writing a story based off some stuff I've been doing with her, like art and roleplays, so she's gonna be helping make this, even if I'm writing it. This first chapter will answer some questions, and... probably leave you with more. But hey, first chapter, right?**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

In the dead of night the palace lit up the sky. It wasn't just the usual torchlight—it _glowed_. Every corner of the kingdom, everywhere within the great wall, the brilliant shine would reach, almost like a beacon to those wandering about and without hope. Rich golds and blindingly white walls were a sight every citizen knew—a comfort even in times of war, when the world seemed to collapse around them.

For the spade king, it was home—just an everyday part of life. Within reach. Nothing special. And on nights like those, it became ordinary for everyone else, too.

One thing he never could understand about his position was the incessant need to socialize. Yeah, keeping up appearances and relationships was important and all, he supposed, but… but did they _really_ need to host parties every bloody week?

From the inner balcony he watched the currents of people shift and mingle in the ballroom below. He leaned heavily on the rail, his chin resting in his palm, scowl deep and unending. There wasn't a _point_ to all of it, really… but he'd let his kingdom have its fun. Why the hell not? It was a chance to escape, to unwind…

To forget about the war.

He watched as the 'queen' spoke with some… ah, he didn't fucking know. Some guy who was invited—he didn't pay the guest list more than a quick glance-over. No, the messy stuff was left to his queen—Marco. Yeah, some queen, alright. He'd never let the guy live down that title, no matter _how_ much time passed.

The war was unending. It wasn't that no side could win; that wasn't true at all. Four kingdoms, in one battle? One was bound to pull ahead at some point. Only, if they did… they'd be wiped out. Upsetting the 'balance' would land the winning kingdom far worse a fate. So they were stuck in a perpetual struggle—one that was now spanning its second century with no end in sight. It was… stressful. Unnerving.

The band started up a new song, a slow and even tempo, and the king watched as most of his guests left the dance floor, couples now taking it over, facing one another and waiting to step into the rhythm.

His eyes scrolled away from the dancers and he smirked, watching as Thatch drunkenly flirted over by the food. That guy would never learn.

The king glanced at the clock, pleased to see that the night had officially stretched into the small hours of the morn, and that soon he would be able to return to his chambers and get a little rest. He'd been up… well, a very long time. Most of it he was stuck on the throne, listening to his people's plights and handing out commands—rather uneventful, but perhaps that was a good thing. And in the morning he could… well, he could sleep in. For once. It'd be a nice change of pace.

And then, one week from now, things would start to change.

They were signing a treaty with the kingdom of clubs.

"Sire?" a voice called from behind and he turned, met with the dark-haired youth who'd been serving him the past few hours. Marco had just hired him, he supposed, as the face was unfamiliar. "Is there anything you require?"

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow. Most servants knew to just leave him be. "Nah, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yep," he assured, offering a grateful smile.

The boy bowed low and on his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt, the king caught a glimpse of a small tattoo—a black spade. Simple, but it got the point across, he supposed. And then he was gone, grabbing a tray of refreshments and carrying it about the room.

And he was back to watching people. Like a creep. Lovely.

"Ace," called someone far more familiar, his tone one of complete boredom.

The sound had him grinning. "Greetings, Majesty," he mocked.

Marco, for his part, simply rolled his eyes at the obvious tease. He didn't even properly address it. But, well, he was used to it by now. "What are you doing up here? There are people waiting to speak with you, yoi."

At that Ace groaned, hunching over the rail to glare at his guests. "Can I just… not?"

"Ace—"

"But _Marco_," he whined, turning to face a tall blond. "I'm tired, damn it."

"You're the king."

"I'm still _human_, thanks."

Marco heaved a sigh, glancing at the clock to his right with a look of clear contemplation, and Ace was hopeful—because he only ever considered giving in if he wasn't too against it in the first place. "…Alright. The event is ending soon anyway, so I'll tell everyone you turned in early. But _try_ not to sleep all day, yoi."

The king grinned, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Will do!"

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

Marco smiled. "Go, then. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yep, g'night."

"Good night, Ace."

Waving to the servant from earlier and beckoning him over, the spade king spun on his heel and down the hall behind the balcony, rounding a few corners and striding across narrow corridors until stumbling upon a set of large, extravagant doors carved with the royal family's crest. He looked back and, sure enough, the servant had followed closely behind, his formal stance never breaking even as the king himself started to slouch.

Flinging open one of the doors, he gestured the boy to follow, stepping into his private suite. Ace didn't waste any time in shrugging off his suit jacket and hat, tossing them carelessly onto the large bed in the corner of the room and expecting his servant to take care of the mess.

The first thing he did afterwards was push open the curtains to the large window at the back of the room and stare outside with a pleased grin. It felt nice to be alone—well, mostly alone, if he ignored the servant.

The one thing he _didn't_ like was how much light pollution there was. From there, he couldn't see the stars, causing his expression to fall a little. Still, the dark velvets of the midnight sky were nice, even without the 'oh so lovely' view of its usual shining accents splayed across it.

He leaned on the sill, pressing all of his weight onto it as his gaze fell upon the expanse of his kingdom. "What d'ya think?" he questioned, his voice soft as his eyes darted about the view. "'S nice, isn't it? Best view in the kingdom."

"Lovely," came the servant's prompt reply. Ace could hear him moving about the room, tidying a few things up, as were his duties, before making his approach. "I would expect nothing less of the royal chamber."

Ace snorted. What an annoyingly proper way he spoke—so… unnecessarily refined. "Suppose so. This was actually Marc's room before, but I kinda pestered him for it."

"Oh?"

He grinned as he reminisced, shifting his weight and letting out a soft, contended sigh. "We were given our titles really young, y'know? They start namin' them off as soon as they figure out who inherited which talent. Mine… I kinda made the dining hall blow up when I was seven."

The servant's steps broke in rhythm, and he didn't have to turn around to know what expression he wore. "An _explosion_? That… certainly is impressive."

A rise of laughter filled the silence, and Ace nodded, watching drawn carriages begin to depart the palace grounds as hoards of people flooded the entrances. "They thought so, too. Suddenly I was being told _I_ was gonna be king. I was the short-tempered idiot of the family, I couldn't—but, well, I _did._ The room they gave me had no windows, though. Was fucking creepy, 'cause it was isolated at the top of the tower. And Marc, he had this nice, big window…"

"What a kind sibling."

The grin stretched, and he couldn't agree more. "Yeah, he—"

He choked on his words.

White-hot pain shot through his back and he grunted, eyes doubling in size as he felt the sharp, slim end of a blade cut through his insides. It went deeper, tore through more flesh, and he could feel the fabric of his shirt stick to his skin with a warm wetness as blood seeped downward and soaked it.

The weapon didn't linger; it was pulled just as quickly and jabbed into his back again, and before it could be done a third time Ace forced his body to turn, the blade sliding back out as he faced his attacker and snarled, trying to ignore the way his legs shook.

Those wounds were deep. He could feel it.

The servant smiled back. "Hello, your Highness."

_That fucking—_

One arm wrapped around himself, the spade king ignored his pain and lunged forward, his hand igniting in a sudden burst of orange and yellow flames. Without giving the other a chance to react, he slammed his fist into the attacker's cheek and relished in his scream as he doubled over, the fire slowly spreading across his face.

And he knew that so long as he lived, those flames would never go out.

Ace dropped to his knees as he watched the other try and fail to put out the blazing inferno, determined not to close his eyes until the threat was down and out—because bleeding as he was, things were _not_ looking good. And as he stared his jaw went slack. And he was starting to see just what the _hell_ was going on.

The colours seemed to melt off the servant. Dark hair was the first to go under the burning of the flames, falling off his body like thick, murky ink and seeming to just vanish as it revealed blond strands. The tan of the skin followed, becoming pale, and the tattoo on his neck—

A diamond. A fucking _diamond_.

No. No, this couldn't—this _wasn't_—

The fire had spread onto his torso and arm, and in an attempt to stop the burning the assailant threw off his suit jacket and tie, the articles burning until not even ash remained—as expected of the spade's talent of destruction. But it had already reached his shirt and skin, and through a burned hole in the sleeve Ace caught a glimpse of the intricate pattern of a large tattoo—and a familiar family crest.

_The king of diamonds._

"Y-you fucking _bastard_…"

The blond was clearly in pain as he straightened, accepting that he couldn't stop his body from burning, and it was clear from the agony on his face that even when he grinned, brushed off how much he hurt, that he _wasn't_ okay. And that was _satisfying._

But Ace couldn't breathe. His vision had started fading rapidly, and numbness spread throughout his body—a very clear, very _terrifying _truth that he was reluctant to admit.

Ace was dying. He… he knew that. He knew that he was going to bleed out—that the hope of being saved was already long gone and _far_ out of his reach. Even if he called for help now, it wouldn't make a difference. But he knew that blond bastard was there with him, still burning and in just as much goddamn pain.

But not for long. The destruction would continue until there was nothing left of his killer.

Not even ashes. And yet still there was that damn_ grin_. It was unnerving—like he knew this was going to happen, like he didn't care. And maybe he didn't…

Or maybe he knew he wouldn't die.

No matter—he'd still gotten him back good. If he managed to survive then he'd be forever scarred, and every man and woman from every kingdom would recognized it—would know the cause—and know what he had done.

The diamond king fought through the pain and crouched down beside Ace, chuckling triumphantly even as it caused him to cough, and the victim was sure the blond's lungs were burned. Pushing Ace to the ground and holding the blade to his neck, that eerie grin stretched.

"Suppose I should bid you 'adieu', your Highness. Much thanks for the talent you're about to give me."

Ace's eyes widened. _Give?_ "W-what—"

He pulled back his arm and swung down, tearing through the spade king's flesh with the blade—

And he felt himself die.

It was fast. He didn't feel much of the pain, his body already so numb. All he felt was the urge to scream and being unable to, and then—and then it _ended_ and there was _nothing_.

He wasn't bitter. There was no fear of the unknown, no lingering hatred for his murderer, even as those were the emotions most prominent right before he'd slipped away. All that really remained was the image of that man _burning_, and triumph in the knowledge that even if the blond managed to stop the blaze, he'd have to live with the scars it would leave behind.

And be reminded of what he'd done whenever he looked in the mirror.

But something was nagging at him. Even then, in death, some semblance of thought remained, and it didn't feel like a lacking existence but—but more like he just wasn't… really all there. Or maybe it was that he _was_ there, but there was nothing around him.

The change was short—instant. He was torn away from that state of nothingness and suddenly he could _see_ again. But… no, that wasn't right. He was _dead_ and—

And he was staring at his own lifeless corpse.

To say that Portgas D. Ace was scared was an understatement, because in that moment he watched as his body lifted a gloved hand—and he hadn't been _wearing_ gloves, _never_ wore gloves—and suddenly his own corpse was catching fire. And he watched, mortified and unable to look away, because _he had no control_—

"Thank you again, Ace of Spades."

That voice—he _knew_ that voice. And he'd felt the vibration in his throat as the words were said, but they in no way belonged to him.

The fire spread, blazing to life across the dead king's body, burning relentlessly until there was nothing left—not even ash. As his eyes continued staring at it, he released… that was his talent—his power, his 'destruction'. But… that wasn't his body, even if he was somehow in it, and…

The diamond king. King… something. God, the man had _killed_ him yet he couldn't even remember the bastard's name… He'd heard it before, when dealing with that kingdom… 'S' something. Simon? Syble? Something…

_Sabo._

That was _his _voice. _Sabo's_ voice.

He heard noises, but they weren't from the outside world. Instead they were the faint, faded and crumbled words and winds from memories, a flood of them bombarding his mind. None were his own, and he couldn't focus well enough to really _see_ them, and it was just complete, organized chaos—an utter contradiction, indescribable in any other way.

The next sense to return was touch—feeling—and _fuck_ did it hurt. It was an agony unfamiliar to him, so horribly strong that it momentarily clouded all thought. Some parts didn't hurt—pockets of skin where the nerves had started to die—but from there it had spread out.

Ace started to realize… that hurting wasn't his own. It was from fire, and he couldn't be burned—because of his talent.

The body was back to moving against his will, gathering the last of the evidence of the crime, tidying the area to remove signs of their brief exchange.

He was in his killer's body. Immobile, completely useless, yet there. How the _fuck_?

For a while the spade king remained disoriented and confused, the body carrying on and slipping out of the palace—_somehow_ managing to go unnoticed, and he didn't know _how_ because, though no longer on fire, Sabo was still burned and bloodied—

That ability—his _talent_. Just what was it? Bloody hell, why had he never paid attention to what Marco said? Never had he regretted his carelessness more than that moment. It was… it involved change, obviously…

_Deception._ Fitting as fuck name for it, too, the bastard…

_'__Ah, so lovely how everything falls in line.'_

The words startled Ace. Just like the memories, they were resounding in his head. They were… his killer's thoughts. _Fuck._

The next hour of travel time was spent simply carrying on like that, with no control, as he tried to grasp just what had happened to him. Cleaning up after his own murder, fleeing a crime scene where he was the victim… the whole thing was surreal.

After a long carriage ride across the expanse between kingdoms, Ace found his eyes now settling on the diamond palace—within its walls, beyond its defenses.

At his enemy's heart. And _damn_ would that be tempting if he could move.

He could hear it again—those thoughts. They were sporadic, and he doubt he was hearing everything, but there were there—insightful. Sabo was hurting. He could feel that the expression their body wore was one of calmness, but in his head the blond was pained to the brink of incoherent thought, and it wasn't until they'd entered an expansive, solitary room with purple walls and gold accents that he felt the mask of indifference melt away along with whatever disguise he'd put himself in during his escape.

_"__Serves you fucking right, you goddamn arsehole."_

The blond's muscles tensed, and Ace felt the surprise in his thoughts. Wait… did—did that mean he was heard?

"…Oh no."

So he _had_ heard it. They could… talk, then? Sort of? But Sabo's next thoughts were of brushing him off—that he was _imagining _it, of all things—and simply set about looking for his medical supplies so he could treat his burns. Why he didn't get a doctor, Ace hadn't the faintest…

_"__Far from imagining things, you wanker,"_ he said snidely, his own voice reverberating back to him. Fuck that was strange. So somehow… Sabo had taken his power. And along with the power… _"Seems that, as you absorbed my talent, you absorbed _me_ along with it. Isn't that wonderful?"_

He didn't even care that he was being a sarcastic little shit.

The body froze. "…Oh _god_ no. Bloody hell!"

Sabo's thoughts… He knew he'd have consequences to deal with. He knew there would be side-effects. He just didn't think they would be that _bad_. But he sighed and shrugged it off, believing that it was worth it now that he had 'destruction'. He could put up with it.

Ace _really_ hated that man.

But then Sabo looked in the mirror, and it wasn't himself reflected back.

It was Ace.

He touched the skin of his cheek, moving the pads of his fingers across his face, his nose, and the structure didn't match up with the reflection. It was _still_ the body of the diamond king. But what he saw was his victim staring back.

"Oh _come on_!"

Ace grinned—er, well, he _thought_ he grinned. It felt like he grinned. Served the bastard right. _"Didn't really think this through, did you? Murdering me. Stealing and absorbing what is essentially my soul. Or was it that you didn't picture the consequences?"_

Sabo ran a frustrated hand through his hair and closed his eyes, shielding his sight from the incorrect face looking back at him. "More to the point, I didn't _care_. I knew it would be bad; my talent comes with risks," he stated. "But no matter—it is still worthwhile if I can tip the balance in my favor."

'In his favor,' huh? That… made Ace feel uneasy. Just what—why did he _do this_? 'Deception' must have allowed him to absorb the talents of others, but... why did he need them? _Why did I have to die?_

_"__What do you mean?"_

"With no ruler, the kingdom of spades will fall. And then the rest." Sabo opened his eyes with a pout—estrange on the one reflected back at him. "Ah, but what a heavy price to pay, being unable to see my _glorious_ face when I look in the mirror."

Fucking great—he was a narcissist.

Ace focused, trying to see if… maybe there was more he could do. He'd seen memories before—maybe he could more actively view them…

_"__You did this to ensure the destruction of my kingdom—but _why_?"_

Fuck, he was sure he could look, but he didn't know _how_ and it only frustrated him more. He was confused and stressed and the other king's words made him so goddamn _angry_ but he couldn't _do anything_ about it. He wanted to set more of the bastard's skin on fire—wanted to burn him until all that remained was a fucking memory.

Sabo frowned, and that looked far less out of place on his reflection. "Because, your _Magesty_, I feel it is about time we get things done around here, don't you?" Ace felt it when their mouth stretched into a grin—that same, sickening grin he saw right before his death. "We've been kept as perfect little puppets long enough. I'll take the spade's lands, then the clover, then the heart's… _all_ of the kings' talents. And then I will kill the joker."

Kill the… but—that wasn't possible. He kept watch over them for a _reason_—because he _could not be beat_. And this jackass wanted to take him out?

Grabbing the medical kit, Sabo started treating his the scars on his face, still visible in the mirror despite it being Ace's physique that they saw—and it looked so _wrong _to see himself with those scars, scars from his own flames. The treatment, however, was no more than first-aid, and with wounds like those he really should have sought immediate medical attention. Why hadn't he? "The overseers will fall soon after. And I will reside above it all."

_"__You—"_ He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and panic started to rise from within him—present but not felt, affecting yet unseen, and he wasn't sure how much of living like that he would be able to bear. _"The peace treaty with the clubs—it was about to be finalized! There would have _peace_, we would have been so _close_ and then you—you fucking _killed _me because you wanted to come out on top?"_

His anger flared with renewed vigor, and he wanted no more than to strangle that body's neck, consequences be damned.

To his dismay, the body's owner went undisturbed as he moved onto the other burns before rifling through the cupboards, likely for pain medication, the bandages left forgotten on the counter. "There's really nothing you can do about it, my dear."

He popped two pills in his mouth and the grin returned as he swallowed them. "You and I both know that your little treaty wouldn't have lasted. Everyone is after one thing, _Sire_. We'll all do what we can to win. That's how this game works."

…Game? Did—did he just call the war a _game_?

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Without the treaty being signed, without him being there—

It… couldn't end like that. It couldn't. Because if it did…

_"__The king of hearts will make his move. Fuck, _fuck it all_, you stupid son of a fucking _whore_!"_

"That louse?" Sabo asked with a raised eyebrow, pushing off the counter and spinning on his heel back into the bedroom of dark purples and golds, taking that moment to get changed. "Worry not about him. He's a rather lax fellow—has remained more or less inactive during this whole thing. He won't find out right away. That being said, _stop screaming in my head_."

_"Oh no, _oh no_, I am _not_ going to be silent,"_ the spade king hissed. Shouting was all he had. There was nothing else he could do, so if annoying the shit out of his _killer_ was his only pastime then he would fucking _indulge_.

_"Everything I've been working for—everything I've accomplished—it's all been for _nothing_ because of you. So no, I will _not_ stop screaming in your head. In fact, it's not entirely _your_ head anymore, is it? I'm here, and I can't leave, so I'm going to be as loud as I bloody want!"_

Sabo rolled his eyes as he gently lowered his aching body onto the plush surface of the bed, lying on his back to avoid disturbing his burns and staring at the ceiling. "As you wish. That's the reason I chose to go after you first, by the way; you were too loud to ignore, and it made you an easy target."

_"'__Easy target' my arse," _Ace snarled, trying everything he could to try to gain some sort of control. Being in another's body, having his actions decided for him, was going to drive him mad. There had to be more to it. _"You stabbed me in the back. Took me by surprise. Attacks like that are cowardly—it's _pathetic_."_

The fact that he couldn't seem to get a rise out of the man bothered him even more as Sabo replied calmly, "Say what you will, but you're now dead and I have your talent." As if to further mock him, the blond raised a hand to his line of sight, and Ace could feel that all-familiar surge of power and heat as a mesmerizing swirl of fire burst to life on his skin. That was… undoubtedly the talent of the spade king—the one that decided the ruler of the kingdom generation after generation. And he couldn't deny it.

His hand flopped back onto the mattress, and he let out a sigh. "Do you _know_ what the talent of deception actually is? It was meant for things like this, and I am certainly well-suited to it."

Yeah, no doubt about that. He was fucking _scum_, and Ace was starting to see just why the people of the diamond king's lands were so widely disliked.

_"__And you're planning on taking out the other kings…"_ He snorted. "_You're gonna die. The king of hearts—no one's ever been able to get close to him, and clubs? Have you even _met _Luffy?"_

Sabo chuckled tiredly, and Ace could feel a… shift, of sorts, in his presence. He could feel that his host was starting to nod off, but Ace, himself, felt fine. So… what did that mean for him? Would he… sleep while Sabo did, or would he be forced to lie there, still, until morning came?

"You're speaking to the man whose literal existence revolves around deception. Do you _really _think I can't manage? We all have weaknesses—it is simply a matter of knowing which ones to exploit." He yawned, and his eyes fluttered shut. All Ace could see was darkness—that familiar black that pulled him in the moment he'd lost his life.

The spade king knew instantly when the other was asleep. He felt a release of pressure—like a weight was being lifted, like he could _finally_ breathe on his own. But at the same time, now he _really_ had nothing he could do, the diamond asshole unconscious and leaving him with no one to talk to, not that he was the best of company to begin with…

For a while he remained like that, completely motionless, unable to see anything or speak or hell, even get a glass of water. His throat still burned, and he'd noticed earlier that Sabo's voice was raspy and coarse, and he knew he had to see a doctor but fuck, _he_ didn't care what happened to the bastard, so he wasn't about to say anything.

Boredom became almost like torture and he sighed—

He… sighed. _Really_ sighed. He could feel his lungs expelling the air, and his chest rising and falling with his breath, and for a while his mind went blank. Earlier… earlier Ace hadn't even been able to blink. To breathe. _Nothing_. Sabo's control was too strong and he couldn't fight it. He thought it was just part of their situation, of being absorbed, but…

Pulling his mouth taut—and it actually _worked_ and _listened_ and it was _brilliant_—he focused on his hand, on the muscles in it, a far more difficult challenge. At first nothing happened. It didn't respond and he was left wondering if that was yet another limitation to being a forced guest in someone else's body, but then as he tried, _really_ tried, he felt his middle finger twitch, a rise of excitement bubbling within him. Next was his index finger, then the rest, and soon he was gripping the sheets beneath his resting form with all of that body's strength and _he could do this_.

With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, a grin slowly splitting his face, he opened his eyes.

There _was_ something he could do, after all.

* * *

**So there you are. Chapter 1. Hope it didn't disappoint! God, this was a monster to make-not because it was long or anything but because I had to try to keep on track and kept getting distracted and trying to go different ways with it... OTL. But as you may have guessed, Sabo and Ace are the main characters. At first it'll focus on them, and then the other two'll come in. I'm thinking chapter 2 will be split between Sabo and Ace's perspectives... We shall see.**

**To my lovelies~**

**Keirra: Hopefully it lives up to your expectations XD I'm gonna spend the next little bit trying to build up the world and characters to hopefully bring it to life a little more. Let's hope I can manage XD**

**Alyss Penedo: It's sort of similar to a devil fruit ability I suppose, but it's inherited and something you're born with XD I'll explain more on the talents in future chapters, and hopefully it'll make more sense.**

**psychedelicLights: Lol that's why it's a prologue, it's not really meant to give much plot XD It was sort of just a little introduction. Actually if you look at the prologue, it mentioned Sabo's tattoo was originally a diamond, so there was no guessing there XD Luffy's clubs, the rest are correct, and yes they're all kings. Hey, comment on whatever you want, I love reading what you guys think!**

**Nugni: Glad it caught your interest XD**

**So thank you for the reviews guys! I honestly didn't expect to get any on such a short prologue... But anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you guys told me what you think so far. I want to build this up to be a fun story for me to write as well as you to read, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**Anyway's, I've rambled enough!**

**Adieu~**


	3. Act II: Within Reach

**I'm alive! So I'm back, finally, and now that big bang is done and everything else is in order I'm going to try my best to update a story or post something new once a week. Let's hope I can stick to it! I've gotten some other stories started, and some more along the way, so hopefully I'll have something that piques your interest.**

**This chapter hasn't been beta'd so I'm sorry if you find a lot of errors. If you see any big ones, like wording problems, please let me know!**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

The room was dark, barely an improvement from the blackness behind his eyelids, but he went unphased. No, Ace was _far_ too excited to let the lack of visibility get to him. He felt motivation flare to life within him as he clenched his hand into a fist, using as much strength as he could conjure up. It wasn't much, but… it was something. Perhaps with time it would get easier, and he would be able to move freely. He just needed to _try_.

Sitting up proved to be far more of a task, much to his dismay. The strength needed to prop himself up just didn't seem to come to him, and it was only seconds before he was falling back against the mattress with a grunt, hissing as the impact irritated his burns. He had to laugh at the irony of it all; the wounds he inflicted were what pained him. Shaking his head free of those thoughts he tried again, forcing himself upright.

Looking around as he steadied himself, he was met with the deep, royal purples of the room's decor, the colour catching on the dim light shining in from the crack in the door, hall lights still on throughout the palace. If the diamond kingdom were anything like his own they would be left on until sunrise as servants moved about, washing the floors as the other occupants slept. Catching a glimpse of the endlessly-ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the room, he saw that it wasn't very late. No, despite it all there should have still been people up… He'd need to be careful. And how the diamond king could sleep with that goddamn _ticking_ was beyond him.

Ace shook his head. No, he had to focus. There was no time for that.

Marco usually didn't come to see him until dawn, when he'd go around and do his morning greetings, waking everyone up. It wasn't something he had to do, just something he'd always enjoyed. Only… tomorrow they had nothing planned. He would allow Ace to sleep in. No one from the palace would realise until then what had happened—that their king was missing.

_Dead_.

He had to get back.

_Alright, you can do this. Take it slow._ Taking a deep, inward breath, he forced himself up off the bed, unsteady on his feet as he tried to keep from toppling over. He felt like a drunkard, that damned body's limbs just refusing to listen. Thatch would laugh if he saw him like that, the bastard. So he waited a moment, trying to adjust his focus to keep from falling on his ass, before slowly shuffling forward. It wouldn't have been so goddamn difficult if he could see properly; Sabo's eyes were shit—

_...Ah. Right._ He raised a trembling hand to his face, the pads of his fingers running over the fresh bandages covering his left eye. _Completely forgot about that… _

It took longer than he cared to admit, but eventually Ace made his way to the entranceway. His eyes narrowed as he pressed close to the wall, peeking out through the crack to the brightly lit hallway—a nice contrast to his current location, if it didn't leave him so goddamn open and visible. But he wouldn't be discouraged. Oh no, he was going to get the fuck out of there and warn his family of what happened, that the bloody diamond kingdom was making its move. _Again_. Every few years they pulled some new trick… He thought killing their last king would have kept them quiet a while longer. But no, this one was _worse_. Sneaking into his kingdom…

_Focus._

A servant moved down the hall with a bundle in his arms and Ace inwardly cursed, ducking behind the wall before he had a chance to be seen. In all of Marco's lessons, not once had he explained to Ace how one would go about escaping the enemy's territory. One would think _that_ would be a pretty important chapter to leave out. Stupid balding old man…

The man had passed and, releasing a relieved breath, the king slipped out into the hall. It was still hard to move, his motions stiff and burdened by his own difficulties _in addition_ to the aches of his injuries, but he managed well enough and crept down the long, vacant corridor.

Ace was no fool. He know that, appearing as he did, he would have no difficulties wandering about the place. That was their ruler's body—their king—and his presence there would never be questioned, but… he was not confident. In the back of his mind he knew for a fact that he would never be able to pull off the act, never be able to pass for that piece of shit narcissist for more than a second. People would realize. The risk wasn't worth it.

The squeak of creaking wheels met his ears and he froze, his eyes widening as the sound grew louder with each moment. Someone was coming. Someone was coming and he would be _screwed_ if they found him there. Fuck, how did Sabo even _talk_?

In a moment of blind panic he found himself ducking into a room to his left and hurriedly shutting the door behind him, leaning his back against it and listening as the sound passed, footsteps clacking against the linoleum flooring. He was safe.

Except he wasn't.

Ace's attention returned to his surroundings and his eyes widened on a figure across the room, a woman turned around in her seat, her arms resting atop the back of a large, padded chair. Blue eyes blinked at him, large and curious, scrolling across him with acute observation, followed by a deep-set frown. He swallowed, pressing flush against the door as his hand searched blindly for the knob.

"...Sabo?"

He flinched at the name, barely able to remind himself that yes, as of now he was 'Sabo', and forced himself to calm. Alright, he could do this, he _could_.

...Fuck, no he couldn't.

Clearing his throat—god, would he even be able to get his voice working? He hadn't tried—and shifting in place, he straightened his back and smiled shakily. He'd never been good at acting. "Y-yeah?"

The woman frowned, her brow creased in concern as she rose from her seat and closed the distance between them, and Ace found himself pressed against the the door again, as though he was trying to melt into it. She looked him over carefully, grabbing his chin to get a good look at his face and he hissed as it pulled at his wounds. "What happened to you?!"

"I-I uh—"

She didn't wait to listen, undoing the bandages around his eye, her eyes going wide at the sight. "S-Sabo, what—"

Shit. Shit shit shit, somehow Ace knew that he did _not_ want this. He pulled away from her touch and gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I uh, had a bit of an accident," he muttered, looking away.

"How did you…?" The woman pressed her lips together, her gaze roving over the burns with a critical eye. "My god, Sabo…"

So she hadn't known. She'd been unaware of what her king had done, otherwise… Well, otherwise a few burns shouldn't have surprised her. The talent of destruction was well known—more so than the others. That woman also seemed to know him personally, more than any servant would. She addressed him casually, by his _name_, no less, and he had to wonder if maybe…

Maybe she was the queen. He never really heard anything about the diamond queen, other than the rumor that her talent stood out among the rest, whatever that meant. Honestly Marco might have mentioned something, but the lessons he listened to were few and far between. Now he was starting to regret being such a negligent student… It would have been nice to have at least known her name; it wasn't like he could ask.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a small but strong hand around his wrist and he only had time to blink before being dragged across the floor and shoved down onto one of the plush sofas in the sitting area. He sputtered, looking up at her confusedly. She was small but _damn_ was she strong… Though part of that could have been that he just couldn't move very well. When he leaned back on his seat he found himself unable to get up. The cushion was comfortable, and… he was tired.

"Wait here," she commanded, whipping back around to march to the entrance. "I'll go get the doctor." And without a word more she was gone, vanished down the hall.

Well fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? Ace sat where he was, looking around awkwardly at the deep royal violets of the room. The furniture was decorated lavishly, with intricate engravings in the gold accents spaced about, wooden frames carved and hand-crafted. It was nothing like his own palace. Sure the rich decor was something they shared, but this… this was over the top, too much even for him. He stayed there like that, taking it all in. It wasn't like he could leave and sneak away… He was the king. People would notice if they couldn't find Sabo, and as little as he cared about what they thought, he knew he'd be stopped if he tried to leave, at least with that girl now seeing how beat up he was.

Suddenly it was his own fire that was causing him complications. Goddamn it.

Tap, tap, tapping his foot impatiently against the hardwood flooring, Ace almost got up, almost decided 'fuck it' and left. But as he leaned forward in his seat a pair waltzed into the room, a tired-looking old man dragged by the lady from early, and he reluctantly slouched in his seat, a frown on his face.

"No trying to leave," she scolded, arms crossed over her chest scoldingly. She was well-dressed, her robes looking rich and expensive, and that observation led him to thinking more and more that she was part of the royal family—whether queen, jack, or ace, he wasn't sure.

"I won't," he assured with a roll of his eyes as the doctor unpacked his things, ignoring the confused look she gave him. And as the doctor began gently unraveling the rest of his bandages he closed his eyes, allowing his head to relax against the back of the sofa.

So he could move. He could take control while Sabo slept.

But now what?

* * *

Something felt a little off about his sleeping arrangement that morning. Sabo hadn't bothered to open his eyes, his brows furrowed as he shifted in place, his mind returning to wakefulness—except he didn't find himself well-rested amidst an array of pillows and soft linens. No, not only was he not well rested, but he felt just as exhausted as he had the night before… more so, even. He was quick to dismiss it as a side effect of the pain he was in, because as soon as he could think properly he found himself aching all along his face, arms and chest. It had to be that, yes?

It wasn't. It felt like he hadn't slept in days and he wouldn't have moved at all had he not noticed the foreign feeling of his sheets. Fur? He never slept with fur. He _hated_ the feel of fur and, damn it, the servants knew this already. They'd been told enough times.

Slowly the blond's eyes squinted open and he let out a hiss as the morning sun coming in through the curtains momentarily blinded him. Slowly he tried again, being sure to turn away from the light. A deep-set frown crossed his face as he found himself staring at the back of a sofa. That wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He turned onto his back, staring out into the room and noting the very unfamiliar look of it all. Vaguely his mind began to register his surroundings as one of the sitting rooms… but he had no idea what he was doing in there. He'd never fallen asleep in one of those rooms before… He used to sleepwalk when he was younger, but nothing beyond that.

Pressing his lips together he sat up, his eyes immediately scrolling down to his person, and his mouth fell into a deep-set frown. At first it was a struggle to remember why his arm was wrapped, and his chest, but the memories of the previous night slowly returned, and he inwardly cursed. His eye was damaged and—

His hand lifted, fingers pressing against the closed eyelid. That wasn't right, either. His bandages had covered his eye—sloppily, as his knowledge on how to treat burns was slim to none—and now he could see again. The wrappings left behind were minimal at best, and there was a soft sheen to the visible skin, a cream of sorts covering it. He lightly touched it, making a face at the feeling.

Sabo supposed that Koala may have come to check on him—he usually wished her 'goodnight' before heading off to bed—and got the doctor to tend to his wounds as he slept, but… that didn't add up. That didn't explain why he was here, of all places, and not his bedroom or the infirmary.

Heaving a tired sigh, he dismissed his concerns and forced himself up, wincing as the action pulled at his burns. It looked like he'd be out of commission a while… He still needed to figure out the spade king's talent, as well. Trying then he couldn't seem to produce a single spark, despite how easy it felt the night before… How annoying.

The blond wandered out into the hall, looking around absently to orientate himself; he was in one of the rooms down the hall from the bedroom, it seemed. Perhaps he _had_ sleepwalked, after all.

Soon enough he found himself in the dining hall, a painfully-long long table stretching across the room. It seemed most had left, leaving only Hack, Monet and his sister at the table, the servants already cleaning up after everyone else's plates. Judging by the looks he was getting he'd slept in—a rare occurrence—and as he lowered onto his seat at the end of the table a weighted silence filled the room.

A plate was set down in front of him which he absently ate from, not bothering to address the staring, the sound of forks scraping against plates the only thing to cut through the stillness. Finally he saw Koala lean back in her chair from the corner of his eye, her utensils set down as she fiddled with her pantsuit, and he had no time to ready himself as she asked, "What happened?"

Sabo continued staring at his food, giving himself a moment of thought before meeting her gaze with a smile. "I had an accident."

Judging by the look on her face, his big sister was _not_ impressed, and he could guess why. He was always aversive, and she _hated_ it. "Don't give me that," she frowned. "You said that last night. I want a straight answer, Sabo. They're not as bad as they could have been, but… you're still really hurt."

That wasn't right. He'd been sleeping last night… Did he speak while sleepwalking? Not allowing his confusion to show on his face, his smile softened and he leaned back in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Really, it was just an accident. I'll be fine, I promise."

The look continued a while before falling, and she heaved a sigh. "It'd be nice if you were honest for once." She saw through him, as expected. If he were honest, he actually intended to use his ability to hide the wounds from the people of his kingdom. He hadn't consulted anyone about his little escapade to the Spade kingdom, knowing that at least his Queen would outright protest. That plan fell through rather quickly… "Try to get some rest, then. Don't forget that we're expecting a visit from Clover later on in the week."

"Yes, yes," he waved he off, sighing as he gripped his teacup. He always hated conferences. The queen was always the one to rule the diamond kingdom, as she was the one with the most influential talent… He was more a part of the council than anything, if a member with higher influence than the rest. "I'll be there. I promise."

Pressing her lips together, Koala gave him one last look before sighing and rising from her seat. A short nod to Monet and both women were gone, leaving him to slump in his seat. Hack was the last in the room, the servants off to bring the dishes to the kitchen, and they exchanged looks.

"You worry her," Hack stated bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, well, she needn't worry; I know how to take care of myself," he huffed, sipping at his tea.

"Do you?" the man pressed, and Sabo stiffened. "You've caused trouble for her ever since you were a boy, and now you come back to the palace all beaten up. Of course she's worried."

Sabo snorted, staring down at his reflection in the tea, frowning when it was Ace's face reflected back. He'd forgotten about that… "I'll heal. And it didn't come without compensation…"

Dark eyes narrowed on him in suspicion. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he sang, a grin on his face that clearly spoke the contrary. Hack was someone he could trust. Hack wouldn't scold him—not _too_ much, anyway—and would keep what he found confidential unless it could be dangerous to the kingdom. Well, depending on how far his idea of 'danger' stretched, this could most definitely fit into that category…

When Hack's knowing look refused to fade he lifted his unburnt hand, repeatedly snapping his fingers. Sabo found it easier to create a spark that way, and though the first few attempts ended in complete failure his fingers eventually caught fire, flames flaring from the tips, and he watched on with amusement as his old friend's eyes widened.

"That power…"

Sabo pressed a finger to his lips, his grin stretching, "Shh. Our queen won't be to happy if she sees this now. Give it time."

After a moment Hack recomposed, nodding jerkily. "I… I understand."

That taken care of, the king finished his tea and rose from his seat, stretching as he waltzed over to the door. "That being said, I'm rather tired. I believe I'll take up Koala's suggestion and rest in my room today. Call if you need me."

* * *

For the second time Sabo woke feeling tired and… off. Something wasn't right. Not only was he still exhausted despite how long he'd slept, not only was the feeling of his sheets an unfamiliar one, but there was a strange, unfamiliar scent in the air. His nose crinkled up, disgusted by the smell, and he buried his face into a pillow in a desperate attempt to mask it. He was so out of it that he planned on drifting off again, falling asleep.

But there was a knock on the door, firm and unyielding, that jolted his eyes open. And he stared.

The room was bathed in deep reds, the furniture minimal at best, decor simple, and _he knew this place_. But it wasn't his room. No, no, it wasn't even part of the palace, and he felt his stomach drop as his eyes caught on his reflection on the floor-length mirror against the wall.

"Ace?" a muffled voice called through the door, vaguely familiar, and he felt himself pale.

_"__Serves ya right, ya bastard." _He blinked, sitting up amidst the sheets and clutching at his head. _"Forgot about me so soon?"_

_...Oh no._

He lept he his feet, feeling panic rising in his gut, and quickly changed. His skin darkened to match Ace's tan, hair pitch black as his facial features altered and morphed, until he was left in a body indistinguishable from the fallen king's.

Sabo hurried to the door and opened it, a smile on his face as his eyes found Marco's. "Yeah?"

Marco eyed him a moment before relaxing. "Don't sleep all day, yoi. Lunch is ready."

"Ah, right—I'll be right out."

"Don't take to long, yoi."

"I won't, I won't."

The older man turned away and Sabo shut the door, reciting a mantra of curse words as he slumped against the wall. After a stretching silence he clenched his fist, glaring at the floor. "...What did you do?"

_"__I'm not just going to passively observe as you destroy my kingdom. One way or another, I'm going to stop you."_

Sabo snorted, running stressed hand through his hair. Things were starting to get… _interesting._

"We'll see about that."

* * *

**And so things get started. Hopefully this chapter kept your interest, and thank you for reading!**

**Adieu~**


	4. Act III: Puzzle Pieces

**Well as always it's been a while, but I'm back with an update for the holidays and honestly, I'm eager to write more. This story may be more of an acquired taste than some of my others but I really enjoy working on it. Thinks will get rolling soon.**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

Despite his promise to the Spade queen to hurry out Sabo found himself barricaded in the bedroom. The door was locked, the curtains drawn and the floor littered with bitterly-discarded clothing articles of all sorts, shapes and shades. Sabo in question was at the heart of it all, kneeling at the back of the walk-in closet as he desperately searched for something that could remedy the direness of the situation.

"_Oh come on, is it really that big a fuckin' deal?"_

Immediately his hands came to a dead halt and he turned to glare daggers at the closet mirror. The fact that it was Ace's face staring back at him through the reflection only intensified the look. Of course that _imbecile_ wouldn't understand; he knew _nothing_ of how important appearances were. "It bloody-well is! I cannot go out there like this—I _refuse_!"

"_Doesn't look like ya got much choice here, bud."_

And of course he knew that Ace was right, but never would he admit it.

After the brief encounter with Marco that afternoon he'd went to look for something to dress himself in; he'd still been robed in Diamond garb and that obviously wouldn't do in his current setting. It should have been a simple, short task. It _should_ have, but Ace didn't know how to bloody dress himself. His clothes ranged from tacky to horrendous with no silver lining and Sabo was caught between astonishment and horror while searching through racks of neon colours and horribly outdated patterns. He didn't even know where someone could _find _clothes like that, or why they would _want_ to. The Spade kingdom wasn't known for having high-end fashion, and it wasn't like the people there valued appearances and impressions all that much, but this was just absurd.

"I-I don't under—you looked _fine_ at the party!"

"_Ah, that? Marc put that together. Says I can't be trusted to dress myself for events an' shit."_

Of course Marco would be the sensible one—and hearing that he knew that even if he _could_ get hold of decent clothing it wouldn't be in his best interest since, well, it would raise suspicion if he didn't dress as Ace usually would. _Damn it all._

"_What's the big deal? Can't your power just disguise shit?"_

"Yes," he bit out between clenched teeth, "but if it's not from your wardrobe it will look _out of place_. I don't need to go raising suspicions just because you have unfathomable taste, Portgas."

"_Right, right. But shouldn't you be like, rushing to get back home or somethin'? Isn't your kingdom gonna collapse without its king?"_

"Wouldn't that be in your best interest?"

"_Well. Yeah, I guess."_

Sabo let out a soft snort, tossing yet another shirt onto the ground. It would be a disgrace to his kingdom to put on something like that—and why _lime green_, of all things? "My kingdom is run primarily by its queen—my sister, Koala."

He heard Ace's echoing hum of thought in his head and sighed in relief as he came across the bloke's only pair of black dress pants. "_Think I met her… So what does that make you, then? If she's the ruler?"_

"Something of a consultant, I suppose," he muttered absently as he began tearing through the last rack for something _decent _to go with the pants. Some of the patterns he'd never _seen _before—with good reason. And unfortunately he knew he'd have to just accept the blow to his pride if he was going to keep from being discovered. "I give my opinion but she has final say. If the council unanimously disagrees with her decision I can overrule her on their behalf, but more often than not my presence is not needed. My talent means that I'm more useful on the frontlines than I am doing politics."

"_Then the hell do you want power for when you don't even run your own fuckin' country?"_

Sabo's eyebrow twitched. Rather than answer he simply snatched up the most normal-looking shirt in his periphery and began changing. He didn't feel all that inclined to answer the voice in his head. In fact, he didn't even know if that really _was _Ace talking. For all he knew it was just a nasty side-effect to absorbing the talent of destruction, and the real Ace was long since dead. But he could not ignore the exhaustion he felt, the weighted burden of every step he took resulting from his lack of sleep. His only guess… was that Ace took control whenever he happened to doze off. This wasn't just some little problem—this was catastrophic in terms of just how badly Ace could ruin his health if given enough opportune moments.

Staring with distaste at his clothes in the mirror, Sabo slouched his posture with a sigh and finally found it in him to leave the room. Unlocking the door and peering outside he was met with a bare hall. It was a little surprising that they hadn't sent someone to fetch him, what with an hour having passed, but when he thought back to the brief time he spent in that palace he wasn't finding it hard to believe; Ace was a lazy ruler with a habit of falling asleep wherever he went. If not for Marco the whole kingdom would probably be in ruins…

"_So what's your plan?"_

_What's yours?_ Ace had brought him all that way, after all. But really he didn't think the bastard _had_ a plan. It was far more likely that Ace just wanted to go back home to keep everyone from panicking… or starting a war.

Sabo could use that.

"_I'm gonna tell them. First chance I get. Soon as you fall asleep again."_

_Don't be a fool. What do you expect them to do, hm? Kill me? They won't. I'm the only reason you're 'alive', don't forget._

Silence was his answer and he couldn't help the smug look on his face as he started down hall knowing that Ace had nothing to say against that.

His smile fell, replaced with a jolt of surprise as he bumped into someone speed-walking past, stumbling back and narrowly avoiding falling backwards. His exhaustion left him with little dexterity, and as he blinked up he spotted a tall redhead staring down at him. Ah… Thatch. He knew Thatch, just a bit. They'd spoken during his brief employment as a servant there. The man raise a half-amused eyebrow. "Ah, shit. Sorry there, buddy."

Sabo frowned. Ah bloody hell, he had to start acting now… He let out a snort, smoothing out his shirt. "Forget it. Where's the fire? Marc send ya to come get me? I fell back asleep after talking with him."

Thatch waved him off with a laugh. "Nah, I pretty much figured that. He's got me checkin' up on a servant. Know that new kid? One who was takin' care of you last night?"

_Shit._ Well he knew it was bound to happen at some point—they would notice his absence and begins on suspect him when they found Ace gone. But well, they _didn't _find him gone. That was perhaps Sabo's one saving grace, and he was beginning to think that maybe… Maybe this wasn't such a horrid development after all.

He plastered a look of confusion on his face. "That guy? I told him to take the day off… Seemed worried about something so I didn't think it'd be good to keep him around."

Thatch sighed, slouching in place. "Y'know Marc's not gonna be happy you did that, right? He's in charge of the staff. Hell, he hired that kid personally. And the brat never clocked out, either."

...Bloody hell he'd forgotten to do that. But he masked his mistake behind a careless snort, one he was sure no one would question. Spending so much time with that annoyance of a king he felt confident in his ability to play Ace's role. "Yeah, well. He can lecture me all he wants after lunch; I ain't doing nothin' today."

Thatch barked out a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. "Y'got balls, kid. I'll give you that. I just gotta go check on a few things so I'll join ya in a bit."

"See ya, then." He lingered a few moments, watching as Thatch took off down the hall—towards the servants' quarters, if he had to hazard a guess. While he hadn't spent long in there he'd been around enough to memorize a good chunk of the palace grounds at least.

"_Wasting no time covering your ass, are ya?"_

_Might I remind you, dear Portgas, that you are the one who gave me the opportunity to do so?_

"_Don't sound so smug about it. You'll fuck up an' they'll figure it out, just a matter of time. They don't need me to run this place, asshole."_

He rolled his eyes. By that point he'd figured as much; it seemed that the queen, jack and ace all worked to pick up their king's slack. That wasn't all too surprising considering how young Ace was—it would take years to turn him into a worthy ruler—and his rather difficult personality. He was rash, he was violent, and he never seemed all that interested in his job in the first place. But that didn't mean that Ace's absence would go unnoticed throughout the Spade kingdom. No, whether he realised it or not he held a strong influence over his people. Perhaps he was just a figurehead, a face for the real rulers of that country. But even if that were the case Ace's presence would be important. _He_ was the one who affected the masses, not his backseat rulers. And even if that weren't the case, _he_ was the one with the king's talent of destruction, now belonging to Sabo himself.

Should the joker find out about this little power imbalance the consequences could be dire. Perhaps keeping up this facade would be good, at least until Sabo acquired the last two talents. Clover's would likely be another easy catch, but Heart's…

That could prove an _interesting_ challenge.

Shaking himself of the spiral his thoughts had fallen into Sabo pursed his lips, eyeing the black, red and white decor that seemed to grow familiar as the seconds ticked by. It was a bit off, lacking the lavish intricacies of back home, yet somehow seemed to suit the simple personality and lifestyle of the people of that land. But as much as he could allow himself more than a few moments of contemplation over the design choices surrounding him, Sabo soon dismissed it in favour of finding his way to the dining hall. It was… different, to say the least. Perhaps it was just simple diversity of customs, but where he expected to find a long hundred-seat table stretching down the length of the room he was instead met with something closer resembling a restaurant, small tables of four and six neatly organized in rows across the floor, covered in neatly set red tablecloths. Most had already been cleared off, a sure sign that it was well past regular lunchtime hours, but as expected towards the centre he was met with a strange blond hairstyle and a man clad in the red robes the country was known for. Reading a book, absently sipping at a steaming mug, Marco's dull eyes remained affixed to the words on the page, so much so that it was a wonder whether he noticed Sabo's entrance at all.

On his way to the table Sabo managed to prep himself for another potentially long instance of acting. He assured his disguise was solid, that a little tension wouldn't be enough for him to slip back into his actual appearance, and took a seat directly across from the queen, eyes roving hungrily over the spread that the servants were quick to set out upon his arrival. From what he'd observed Ace could be quite the glutton. A little surprising, though, was the way Marco never bothered to greet him or even lift his eyes from that novel he was so enamoured with, flipping the page as Sabo forced himself to start eating. Honestly he wasn't at all hungry; perhaps it was the fault of his exhaustion or the fact that he'd had a late breakfast. But _Ace_ would be hungry. It would be _strange_ if Ace wasn't hungry. And that was more important, he knew, as even something as small as a lacking appetite could raise alarm bells.

"You're late, yoi."

The voice had him freezing, blinking up curiously at Marco who _still_ seemed to pay him no mind. It was a bit… irking. Sabo was quite used to being the centre of attention, and to be completely brushed off like that… Well, it was new. And unwanted. But he never let it show on his face. "Fell right back asleep, heh. But my stomach woke me up."

Blue eyes finally flickered up to catch him in their gaze, staring on with something akin to amusement, but it lasted little more than a moment. "Of course it did. I told you that you could have the day to yourself but you should be careful to keep to a schedule, Ace. You know how hard it is to change it back."

"I know, I know, I just…" Sabo rubbed the back of his neck. This was going well, _very_ well. "Fuck, I dunno, Marc. I couldn't fuckin' sleep last night. It was so goddamn loud…"

The book closed suddenly, Marco now leaning back in his chair with a contemplative gaze and slowly-deepening frown. He moved forward and Sabo tensed, mind racing with thoughts of just what he did wrong—only to watch as his mug of coffee was pulled away, towards Marco who heaved a tired sigh. "You know this is bad for your narcolepsy, yoi. Don't."

Slowly Sabo settled, slouching down in his chair with a look of guilt. "...Right, yeah. Think I'm still half asleep, fuck…"

When his voice faded he expected further reprimand or an understanding reply—_something—_but the awkward silence that ensued was enough to make him feel anxious. And of course Ace was dead silent, giving him no hints as to how he should act or what he should say, not even what he did wrong. But that was expected, he knew…

The stares of the servants were not.

Fortunately Sabo was granted a distraction as a familiar redhead burst through the main doors of the dining hall with a stretching grin. Thatch wasted no time in striding over and plopping down on one of the chairs adjacent to theirs, kicking up his feet in what had to be one of the worst displays of table manners Sabo had ever seen. Naturally it was hard to mask his disgust but he managed. He was a professional, after all.

"Sorry about that. Had some business to take care of," Thatch stated, ignoring the prompting raised eyebrow Sabo shot his way. "What's the matter, Acey? Not feeling well?"

Sabo blinked, looking down at the half-eaten spread before him. He'd managed to force himself to eat almost twice as much as he usually would—and damn did he feel sick after that—but that _still_ wasn't enough? That was just—just absurd! How could _one man_ be responsible for eating _that much food_? "A-ah, nah, I was jus' talking with Marco. I think I'm still stuffed from the party last night. And, well, alcohol, y'know?" He offered a sheepish grin. "My head's a mess."

There was a pause before Thatch laughed, clapping him on the back hard enough to make him almost upchuck his meal. That man had strength to him, for certain… "Well take it easy, kid. You'll burn yourself out like that."

"Thatch," interrupted a smooth voice, calm and dull in tone with the strangest hint of authority backing the word, turning it from a simple name to a command.

Immediately Thatch's grin slipped away to a chilled smile and he pushed himself back, tipping the chair onto an angle as he met the eyes of the queen. "Sorry. That kid you had me look into? The contact information he left us is forged—led us nowhere. The address he gave us is _abandoned._ Can you believe that? Little shit probably didn't think we'd look into it."

_...Bloody fuck._ No, he'd expected them to figure it out, he just hoped he'd delayed their investigation with their conversation earlier…

Marco's eyes narrowed and he set down the mug he'd been sipping from. "I thought we did a background check."

"We did!" Thatch raised placating hands, leaning forward until the front legs of the chair hit the ground with a _thud_. "Marco, buddy, this guy—_whoever _he was? Yeah, he existed. Shows up in all of our records an' everything."

"Then…"

"_Ya fucked up, assfuck."_

_Quite, you._

Thatch rubbed the back of his neck, heaving a sigh as he averted his eyes to the crimson tablecloth resting beneath his elbows. "We managed to track the records to a little cottage right outside the walls. Kid's father said he'd been missin' about a week now, same time he started working here. I dunno what he thought he was doing by comin' here, but whatever it was I don't think it was good."

The scowl on Marco's face promised nothing but misfortune to the 'boy' whenever he next showed up. Sabo made a mental note never to take that guise in that kingdom again.

* * *

The excuse of needing to splash water on his face could only buy him so long, he knew, before he would inevitably have to return to the presence of the Spade royalty to continue this endless charade. But nevertheless Sabo was in no rush leave the washroom, glaring daggers at Ace's reflection in the mirror.

"_They're onto you,"_ Ace assured, a smugness to his tone so thick that Sabo wanted nothing more than to beat the confidence right out of him. It was a shame Ace had no physical form.

"And why do you say that, hm?" he questioned. "I felt as though I handled myself quite well."

"_I don't drink caffeine. Fucks with my narcolepsy. And I don't get hangovers, dumbass. I can just burn away the alcohol with my ability."_

Sabo raised an eyebrow, head cocked to the side with a hint of curiosity as he pondered that. So far he hadn't drank any alcohol since taking Ace's talent… Perhaps he would have to test that theory later. "They don't suspect their brother, Portgas."

A confident snort was his response, and that attitude problem of Ace's was starting to get to him. "_They will soon as you fall asleep an' I tell them the whole story. Then you'll be fucked. You know that, right?"_

His eye twitched and he squeezed both shut, splashing a little more water on his face—feeling it ease some of the pain from his covered injuries. They weren't visible but that didn't mean they weren't there, and the past few hours without any sort of treatment for them had taken its tole. His face especially was a burning mess, one that became almost unbearable as the day passed on, and Ace's continuous threats were doing nothing to help that. He'd had about as much as he could take. "Say one word, Portgas, _one word_, and I swear on my kingdom that none of your brothers will make it out of this war alive."

"_Yeah, right. Like you could—"_

"I'm serious, Ace." Sabo's voice was firm, leaving no room for debate as he gripped tightly to the counter and scowled at the mirror. "My goal was to take over this land, not destroy it. But so help me, Ace, if you ruin this for me there _will_ be lives lost. Let us not forget that I now have _your_ talent. I have the most destructive, dangerous ability there is and so help me I won't hesitate to use it if I feel I'm in danger. I'll humour you. I'll play this little 'game' you've thought up. But if you say _anything_ while I sleep you will regret it. I _promise_."

Met with a stretching silence he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping the matter as he trotted across the floor and exited—and almost bumped into a tall redhead once more. Thatch had been a constant presence throughout the afternoon, always by Ace's side at a moment's notice. In a way it was like any number of the personal attendants he kept back home… but that was not the case. And that made him all the more wary of his doting 'big brother'.

He blinked up and then slouched, rubbing the back of his neck. "Waitin' long?"

A sloppy grin was there to greet him as Thatch leaned heavily against the wall, arms folded over and a curious gleam to his eyes that only made Sabo all the warier. "Thought I heard some voices in there," came the aversive reply, one Sabo certainly did _not_ appreciate. "You okay?"

Sabo raised an eyebrow, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt. "Fine, why?"

There was a momentary pause before Thatch shook his head and let out a snort, waving for the younger to follow. Both started down the near-vacant hall, passing only a servant or two, and the emptiness was unnerving if only for the echo bouncing against the high ceiling and walls. He narrowed his eyes on his escort's back, wondering why in the hell _that man_ was acting as his babysitter.

_Ace of Spades, is it?_

"_Him or me?"_

_Have I mentioned, dear Portgas, how ill-fitting your name is?_

"_Like I don't already know that…"_

Thatch held the role of ace for the kingdom of Spade, a role that saw him as head of the palace's military strength. He was always the first to battle, always the one giving commands and consistently the cause of countless losses for Diamond Country. Oh yes, Sabo had a few choice _words_ for that man. But despite his negative bias he knew Spade's ace to be good at what he did, and more than fit for the job.

But _why_, pray tell, was such a man currently acting as his guide?

"Look, kid." Obediently Sabo's eyes lifted to see Thatch rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I dunno what's up with you but I'm not gonna ask questions, alright? All I'll say is that ya got Marc all worried for ya. Anyway, he gave you today off but you sure as hell aren't getting another. He wants you back to your lessons tomorrow. Got it?"

Sabo was about to agree but paused, eyes narrowed. Ace… wouldn't be so compliant, would be?

He let out a soft snort, casting his eyes towards the light filtering in through the window. "'Course he does… D'ya know how fuckin' dull those lessons are, Thatch? I'd like to see _him_ sit through one." The small smile he caught when Thatch peeked over was all he needed to feel assured and he let out a groan. "Yeah, whatever. I won't skip."

A sudden yelp escaped him when he found the older man tussling his hair with a barking laugh. "Good answer, brat. Now stop draggin' your feet and pick up the pace."

* * *

Nightfall found Ace in his room, back in control with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed and hands clasped together in anxious thought. There was too much to think about, too much to go over in his head, and a part of him wanted to say 'screw you' to Sabo's threat from earlier and just—just _tell them_. But fuck, even he was starting to feel the exhaustion from lack of sleep and it clouded and muddied his thoughts and left him half-tempted to just leave the night pass him by.

Walking was easy now, he found. It didn't strain him the way it had that first night, and his movements were smooth and natural, so much so that he never really registered it when he wandered out of his room. The only comfort granted to him was that he was back home, back in his own palace with his family, but even that left a bad taste in his mouth. There was no telling what that fucker would do with what he'd learned there, and… no telling when he'd decide this 'game' was boring and return home. If nothing else, that Koala woman would probably wonder where he'd gone off to…

The soft candlelight flicker was what caught his eye first and he raised his head, peeking in through a crack in the doors to what he saw was one of his brothers' rooms. He heard a soft lyrical hum before seeing the pallid, delicately-robed form of his sibling, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched small hands move across a half-sewn piece of fabric. He let himself in.

"Workin' on your hobby this late in the night, Iz?" he asked, stealing a desk chair for himself and plopping down on it, arms coming to rest on the back.

Grey eyes met his and Izo smiled, leaning back in his seat as his hands paused. "It's the only chance I have these days. What are you still doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," he lied, drumming his fingers along the wood of the chair. If he closed his eyes he knew he'd risk passing out right then and there, so he was doing his all to avoid it. "Been thinkin' about some stuff."

Izo's hands resumed their task and he folded over a corner of the fabric before carefully sewing the ends. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"

..._You just had to ask, didn't you?_ He released a shuddering breath, a shaking hand running through his hair. "...Can I get you to promise you won't say anything? I need your word, Iz. Not to Marco, not to Thatch. Not even to _me_."

Painted lips pressed together firmly and Izo looked up, eyes flitting over Ace as though looking for some grave injury. But eventually there was a nod. "You know I won't, Ace."

Taking a deep, shivering breath and already regretting it, he focused internally, trying to recreate that strange sensation he felt when Sabo'd transformed, and forced the disguise to drop, washing away any signs of 'Ace'. He watched his brother's eyes widen in disbelief, followed the shaking hands that came to cover Izo's mouth, and stared hard at the ground.

"...I need your help."

* * *

-oOo-

* * *

The one thing that the Heart king did not appreciate was his queen making decisions for him. Quite the contrary—he found her growing less and less tolerable by the day and more than once he found himself wondering if her talent would be quick about finding a new host should she meet an untimely fate. What a loss it would be for their kingdom, sure… but oh how rewarding the silence would be without her incessant jabber. And how exhilarating it would be to finally be the only one in control, the only one to make the decisions… instead of only finding them out when they were staring him in the face.

The boy was blond, short. Small, even. Blue eyes… at least from what could be seen; one was concealed behind a large patch that covered near half his face, and the king had to wonder if he'd lost it. He'd seen far worse battle scars from his own men over the years, but this… this _boy_ was…

The small diamond tattoo on his neck was unsettling.

Law stared down at the man with disinterest. "You are the new servant assigned to me, I presume…"

He gave a polite nod and dipped into a bow. "Correct, your Majesty."

Law shifted his weight, the butt of his staff tapping absently against the tiled floor. "Sabo, is it?"

The boy rose to his full height, only answer a polite smile.

* * *

**All I'll say is that I'm excited to write the next chapter.**

**To my guest reviewers~**

**Silver: Glade you're liking it XD**

**3 birds: Pfffft omg XD I died at "Sabo needs to meet me in the fucking pit" that was amazing not gonna lie. Thank you, I'll be sure to try to keep you interested!**

**MeganeD: You'll learn about Ace's connection to Luffy more as we go on throughout the story, but for now it'll be a while before they're totally relevant. Don't worry, I had no trouble understanding your review :)**

**That Random Guy: You'll see Sabo messing with Ace a lot more as the story goes on too XD It's the only way they can fight with one another, being stuck in the same body. And thank you! I'd like to do a revamped digital version of that painting if I have the time ;v;**

**Guest: Hehe I think people coming over from Divide will like this story a lot in particular, I think it has a pretty similar feel to it XD Don't worry, there'll be plenty of SaboLaw later on~ Actually Luffy's talent has nothing to do with being rubber. There are going to be big gaps between chapters and I have to ask everyone to be patient as I'm working on quite a lot of things at once. I can only to so much, yeah?**

**Adieu~**


End file.
